When the Valley's Hushed and White with Snow
by CatherineJosephineMarie007
Summary: My LONG response to Onesimus and Batwings79's Mistletoe Challenge. 2nd Series spoilers! Slightly over the word limit  oops . Carson/Hughes, Anna/Bates and a bit of Sybil/Branson. But just a smidge.


**This is my other contribution to Onesimus and Batwings79's Christmas challenge. I couldn't decide between all the choices, so I did more than three: **

**-Drunken Mrs Patmore**

**-Kiss under the mistletoe between half your ship and another character **

**-Thomas getting punched **

**-Singing (drunken or sober)**

**-Tartan underclothing **

**-Dickensian quote**

**~I need to get better at making decisions~**

**Word Count: 4794, not counting Author's Notes and lyrics.**

**Rating: T probably.**

**Disclaimer: SERIES 2 SPOILERS. I don't know what they are exactly, but I mention things our lovely American chums won't know about unless they've already seen the 2****nd**** series. **

**A/N: Doesn't belong to me—if it did, Downton would have 20 episodes per series and people would be making out everywhere. Also, I paraphrase a line from 'The Jane Austen Book Club', and 'Sense and Sensibility' (the non- Dan Stevens one). I don't own either film, or the lyrics to Danny Boy. There's a shocker.**

**A/N 2: The Isobel/Elsie friendship is the product of LAVENDER AND HAY, commanding officer of Ship Carson/Hughes. I haven't asked to borrow it and I hope she doesn't mind.**

***I apologise if it seems a little choppy, and I also realise that the thing with Bates is unlikely. We were going with fluffy here.***

**Pairing: Carson/Hughes, and also bits of Anna/Bates and the tiniest smidgen of Sybil/Branson**

0oOo0

November 1918

"I've had some news from the War Office, and I thought you'd like to know right away; that the war is over." Lord Grantham said with a relieved sigh. Everyone gasped and smiled, and soon the servants' dining room was full of laughter and clinking glasses.

Mr Bates and Anna, lucky devils, were able to embrace at the dinner table. No one gave the gesture any thought. The entire house knew that the two of them were madly in love, so a little hug after the declaration of an armistice was surely allowable. Mr Carson looked down to where Mrs Hughes stood beside him with a smile on her face. Instead of bending to wrap his arms around her, as he would have liked, he simply reached out and took her hand.

Elsie smiled up at him in excitement. After four years and so many needless deaths, they would finally have peace again in Europe. She wanted to do much more than hold his hand, but with Mr Carson's reticence and their senior position among the staff, it wouldn't be right. So she just contented herself with squeezing his fingers reassuringly and making sure everyone had a glass for a toast.

She never would have imagined feeling the urge to throw herself into Mr Carson's arms when they first met, not at all. That first afternoon was all civility and manners and an undercurrent of distrust, as though he thought her an intruder in his precious household. But life alters us, he had said to her once, and what was the point of living if we didn't let life change us?

Downton Abbey, 1899

Carson was overseeing a delivery of wine when someone approached the back door. It was a female someone, and she was leading two of the stable boys down the lane. They were carrying a small, battered trunk between them.

"You're Mr Carson?" she asked in a broad Scottish accent.

"Yes," he replied warily. She handed him a letter that had clearly been read several times.

"I'm Elsie Hughes, the new Head Housemaid."

"Indeed. Well, it is a pleasure Miss Hughes, please come inside." Carson followed her into the hallway toward the servants' dining room. He took a moment to observe her. She was tall and lithe, with dark hair and matching eyes. He may have been the butler and 'above' such things, but he would have been daft had he not admitted that she was lovely. As though she could sense him staring, she turned around and gave him a withering look. Carson probably had a good ten years on her, but he felt like a naughty school boy under that stern gaze.

"Is there something on the back of my jacket, Mr Carson?" she asked.

"Not at all, Miss Hughes." He tried to reply just as calmly, but he felt the tips of his ears turn pink in embarrassment. Miss Hughes seemed to notice this with satisfaction and turned back around. Carson was just trying to reel in his discomfiture when Mr Watson, Lord Grantham's valet, crossed their path.

"Mr Watson, where is his Lordship this afternoon?" he asked, thankful to have someone else join their party.

"In the library I think, Mr Carson," Watson replied.

"Very well. If you'd come with me, Miss Hughes, I'll introduce you to his Lordship."

"Thank you, Mr Carson," she replied.

"Downton Abbey is a fine house, and the Crawley's are a fine family. Should you find yourself unsure of what to say while performing your duties, I can assure you the family's good manners will ensure that you do not experience any embarrassment, and you can get on with attending to your work." He went into butler mode, giving her the same speech he gave every new recruit to the household.

"Thank you Mr Carson, but I'm sure I'll be fine." Miss Hughes replied confidently. They had reached the main level of the house now, and Carson showed her to the large library. She nodded and entered with a knock. Before she closed the door on him, he heard her say, "Pardon me for disturbing you, Your Lordship, but I've just arrived. Elsie Hughes, the new Head Housemaid."

Carson blustered a little at her forwardness; fancy going into the library without even allowing him to introduce her? Somehow he couldn't see this Miss Hughes lasting very long.

Downton Abbey 1919

"She gave me a kiss in full payment." Carson admitted with a faraway look in his eye. Elsie couldn't help but grin at the picture of a little Lady Mary kissing her burly Mr Carson.

"Then she had the better bargain." Elsie assured. And when he looked over and met her eyes, she wasn't sure whether the affection she saw was for her or the memory he'd just recounted. She treasured these little moments at the end of the night when they could just sit and talk about house business. Sometimes the stuffy professional Mr Carson would slip and tell her something personal, and become her friend Charles. Ever since war broke out, those moments as just Charles and Elsie were fewer. _Another reason to pray for peace_.

"I don't know about that." He replied self-deprecatingly.

_I do_, Elsie thought with a fond look at him. She was just about to voice those two words, the words that might make him _finally_ see she was flirting with him, when Anna knocked on the pantry door. She wanted a _word_.

"Certainly," Mrs Hughes said, setting down her tea cup. "Shall we go to my room?" Now that their moment was ruined, she was more than willing to get out of that room as quickly as possible.

But Anna refused, saying that she had nothing to say that Mr Carson need not hear. She barely restrained a sigh and turned to her Head Housemaid.

0oOo0

Elsie was just about to lock up her sitting room for the night when someone called her name. She turned to see Mrs Crawley striding down the hall toward her.

"Mrs Crawley, how can I help you?"

"I told you, you can call me Isobel when we're not around the upstairs lot." she rolled her eyes wryly.

"Certainly. Elsie." Mrs Hughes nodded.

"I actually fancied a chat. About Ethel and little Charlie."

Elsie felt herself pale and nodded. She unlocked the door and let them into her sitting room. The embers of the fire were still glowing, so Elsie added some more kindling to it and gestured for the other woman to sit.

Isobel perched herself in one of the armchairs before the hearth and smiled kindly at her. "I heard what you did for her. It was very brave. Selfless, even."

Elsie snorted. "Not very, since I was feeding her out of a kitchen that doesn't belong to me."

"All the same, you didn't have to help her. When she came to you, I mean."

"I suppose I could have turned her away, but what good would that have done? A starving woman and child on my conscience?" Elsie shook her head. "If I had been more vigilant, she never would have found herself in that situation in the first place."

"Surely that isn't true!" Isobel cried. "I met Major Bryant before I went off to France. A Casanova if there ever was one. If she really wanted to see him, she would have found a way; even if you patrolled the halls at night with a birch switch and a whistle."

Elsie chuckled at the mental picture. She'd first come across Mrs Crawley… no, Isobel, she reminded herself, after Mr Matthew returned from France, in one of the upstairs parlours crying. She'd asked Elsie to sit with her, and from then on there seemed to be a certain kinship between them.

"Cousin Cora told me you didn't even tell Mr Carson at first," Isobel continued gently. "Surely you didn't have to keep this secret alone."

"Oh no; as angry as Charles—Mr Carson—was at me for not telling him about Ethel, he was even more angry at me for helping her in the first place." Elsie replied, blushing a little at her slip with the butler's name.

"Why? Mr Carson is hardly cold hearted."

"I suppose he just can't forgive weakness in others when he doesn't allow it in himself."

"Has he forgiven you?"

"For lying to him about feeding Ethel and Charlie from the kitchens? I don't know. I suppose what's done is done and he knows he can't change any of it. So he's resigned to forgive me eventually." Elsie sighed sadly, and Isobel noticed the lost look in her eyes.

"It bothers you when he is mad at you, doesn't it?"

"I suppose it hurt my feelings when he couldn't see that I did what I had to do. We always have to present a united front to the staff, but often enough we're in agreement already. There isn't very much we don't see eye to eye on. Just being civil with each other is… well, it makes me sad." She shrugged. "Don't worry, I'll get over it."

"And so will he," Isobel replied definitively. "I, for one, am glad that she felt comfortable enough to come to you for help even though you fired her; it shows how much you endear yourself to the maids, for all your blustering."

Elsie chuckled. "Thank you, Isobel. I needed this."

"Anything I can do to help," the other woman smiled and stood up. "I'd better get home before Molseley sends out a search party."

0oOo0

Soon after that, Charles contracted Spanish Flu and scared Elsie half to death. Although Dr Clarkson assured her it was a minor case and that he would recover fully, Elsie was determined see for herself.

"Drink this," she ordered gently, giving him the tonic the doctor had left. Carson rolled his eyes but acquiesced without verbal complaint. Elsie smoothed his bedclothes, which she admitted even to herself was tempting fate, since her fingers sometimes brushed against his legs or his waist as she straightened the sheets. Thankfully Charles seemed not to notice when she sat a little breathlessly on the chair by his bed, turned the lamp down a little, and picked up her knitting.

"You don't have to do this," he protested gruffly, handing the empty glass back to her.

Elsie scoffed and took it, placing it back on the tray before replying, "Who else would look after you?"

Charles chuckled and raised his eyebrows in defeat. "But still, I know you're still upset with me after that fiasco with Ethel and the Bryant's."

"And you're still upset with me," she countered, knitting a few lines to avoid his gaze. "But I can't change what I did now, Charles, and I daresay I wouldn't even if I could. She came to me, what was I supposed to do?"

"I know, I know." He held up a tired hand to stop them going down that road again.

"Besides, you're ill; we may have our problems, Mr Carson, but when it comes right down to it I know you'd do the same for me."

"I would." He nodded. "And very well might have to do if you stay here all night."

She smiled and met his eyes finally. "I'll take the risk."

He stretched out and caught one of her hands, pulling it away from the knitting needles to rest in his. "Thank you, Elsie."

She smiled and lay her knitting in her lap. "You're welcome, Charles. Now try to get some sleep."

He nodded and lay down again, not letting go of her hand. Elsie sighed and indulged him, at least that's what she called it in her head; she tried to ignore the painful beating of her excited heart.

And that was how Anna, when she came up with breakfast the next morning, found the two of them asleep in his room, hands twined together on the bed.

December 1919

Lady Rosamund Painswick arrived the week before Christmas to enjoy the Grantham's festivities for the holiday. Marigold Shore, her ladies' maid, charged downstairs without being escorted and stopped in the kitchens.

"Where's my room then?" she asked.

"Miss Shore, a pleasure to have you with us once again," Miss O'Brien said dead pan.

"Indeed," Mrs Hughes added, trying to sound a little more sincere. "How was your journey from London?"

"Jolly brilliant. Sitting with Lady R while she moans on about the state of the train and your Lady Sybil's disgrace, and then when we get here it's snowing. Too bad Sybil married the driver, we could have used him."

"I'll ask you to refer to Lady Rosamund in more respectful tones while you're in this house, Miss Shore," Carson rumbled on his way through the kitchen.

"Indeed," Elsie said again, disapproving this time. "You'll be sharing with Mrs Patmore for the duration of your stay. Anna, the Head Housemaid, will show you where it is." She beckoned to the blonde girl, who gave the other maid a small smile. _Poor girl_, Elsie thought, taking in Anna's pale form. If she wasn't mistaken, her corset was cinched a notch more than it usually was: she was losing weight. Mr Bates would want her taken care of, and Elsie assigned herself to the task.

"Brilliant. Ruddy awful trip down here and then I have to share a room. And get unpacked before her highness wants all her gowns hung," she let Anna lead the way to the attic, still grumbling.

"God bless us, everyone," Mrs Patmore said sarcastically once Miss Shore was out of earshot. "She's a right Tiny Tim, that one." Elsie sighed and left her to her baking.

"Surely Miss O'Brien could have escorted Miss Shore to her room," Carson said to her as they walked down the hall together.

"Did you want the two of them having a chance to scheme in private?" Elsie asked in response, raising a questioning brow.

Charles looked ahead for a moment before shuddering a bit. "Certainly not."

"Well, then its best not to leave her alone with any of the more… frivolous members of staff."

0oOo0

"I know the servants get a ball at Christmas," Isobel said a few days later as she took tea with Elsie. "Do you go all out for it?"

"Define 'all out'," Elsie replied.

"Well, for instance are you getting a new dress?" her friend raised a calculating brow. "Something a little more modern?"

"When would I ever have the time to do that?" Elsie scoffed. "No, I have a dress I save for these special occasions."

"Indeed? And is it less conservative than the Mother Superior costume?" Isobel gestured to the housekeeper's high-necked black dress. The two of them managed to hold a straight face for a moment before dissolving into laughter.

"It's not got long sleeves, if that's what you mean," Elsie chuckled.

"Oh dear; one peek at an elbow and Mr Carson's going to be dragging you into his pantry like a cave man."

"I wish you'd stop that!" she scolded. "There's nothing going on! And Mr Carson's hardly a cave man."

"Don't you mean Charles?" Isobel teased.

"Yes, yes, you've caught us; we call each other by our first names, we must be madly in love." Elsie rolled her eyes.

"I'm not wrong about this Elsie, I swear it."

"Isobel, don't. Nothing is going on, and nothing is _going_ to go on."

"As much as you might want it to," Isobel said in a sing song voice.

"What do you want to hear, that I like him? Alright, I like him."

"That's like saying Romeo liked Juliet."

"They met a rather pathetic end."

"Oh I don't know; would you like to be left behind?"

That brought Elsie up short; as they got older, it was becoming more obvious that one of them would outlive the other.

"No, I suppose I wouldn't."

"There, one little confession at a time. Now, who wants to show the butler their tartan knickers?"

"Isobel!" Elsie cried in shock. But her friend was already giggling like mad and in no condition to defend herself against her outrage.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry; it must be all this Christmas cheer making me delirious. Even Cousin Violet has been positively obliging, and it's put me in a good mood."

"Enough of a good mood to joke about my under things in no uncertain terms!" Elsie scolded, but she could feel the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

"Apparently," Isobel replied, reining her mirth in once again. "But listen Elsie, if you want to know for sure, and I know that you do, just get your Mr Carson under the mistletoe."

"I couldn't!"

"So you say, but get a little of that Christmas cheer in you and we'll see what happens." Isobel left soon after, her ridiculous ideas and assumptions still floating stubbornly in Elsie's mind.

25 December 1919

There was a knock on her bedroom door as Elsie was putting the finishing touches on her Christmas outfit.

"Come in," she called, coiling her hair up and securing it with her best pins.

"I didn't realise you were still dressing," Charles said, coming round the door. "I thought we could walk down together. I think it's safe to say everyone else has their faces pressed to the door leading upstairs, waiting eagerly for the go ahead."

Elsie shook her head. "Then they'll just have to wait." She fastened her new feathered comb, her Christmas present to herself, into her chignon and then turned to him. "Presentable?"

"More than," he replied promptly, delighting in the blush she was obviously trying to force down. Elsie smiled and took the arm he offered.

Mr Carson's prediction had been spot-on; Daisy, Mrs Patmore and Thomas had their cheeks pressed into a gap in the open door at varying levels, trying to see what was going on.

"Daisy, close that door, please," Elsie asked, stopping Charles a few steps above the staff so she could see everyone. "Now, I know its Christmas and we're all looking forward to relaxing and enjoying ourselves, but I ask that you so with a sense of grace and decorum; don't do anything you'll have to explain yourself for tomorrow." She looked at Charles and gave him a nod.

"That being said; enjoy yourselves." He added, gesturing for Daisy to open the door again. She did, and everyone proceeded single file, headed for the ballroom.

"Trust you to make me look like a stick in the mud while you're the easy going one," she grumbled good-naturedly to him under her breath.

"Come now Mrs Hughes," he replied teasingly. "For all their problems and proclivities—"

"Including plotting mutiny," Elsie interjected.

"We have a dedicated staff that should be able to enjoy themselves unreservedly one night of the year. And that includes us," he tapped his nose conspiratorially and she rolled her eyes.

They got separated after that; Carson to dance the first waltz with the Dowager Countess, and Elsie to stand on the sidelines with Daisy and listen while she prattled on about the dresses. She really was a sweet child, commenting on how well Mrs Crawley looked as well as the young ladies. Isobel was standing across the room with Lady Cora and Lady Edith. She smiled across at Elsie, and Elsie returned it. She then went back to watching Charles lead Lady Violet across the floor. For a giant of a man, he certainly could dance she smiled as she watched them. He always saved a dance for her, of course, but not until after his duties were done; that included dancing with Lady Cora and each of the young ladies, should they wish.

Mr and Mrs Branson took to the floor at the same time, and it appeared Lady Sybil had been teaching her new husband a few things in preparation for the first visit to Downton of their married life; they danced a very serviceable waltz, and received a tiny smile of approval from Lord Grantham, though it was gone as fast as it appeared.

Lord Grantham would eventually get around to dancing with her, after he'd taken his wife and his mother for a spin. He usually was quite comfortable dancing, but tonight he seemed especially jumpy as he danced with Lady Mary, looking over to the front door every time he was positioned away from it.

Mrs Patmore, Miss Shore and Miss O'Brien had taken up residence at one of the tables around the ball room, taking full advantage of the champagne on offer. Daisy soon went to sit with Anna, who was sitting alone at the table next to them.

After the first waltz was over, Elsie was asked for a dance by Matthew Crawley, which she accepted with a smile. While they were dancing, she saw Isobel swoop Charles away toward the front door, talking quietly all the way. Elsie furrowed her brow, but after a moment decided not to worry about it and when the dance was over she thanked Mr Crawley and went to sit with Anna and Daisy.

Between the crush of people on the dance floor, Elsie could still make out Isobel and Charles conferring by the door. Then, as she watched wide-eyed, Charles leaned down and kissed Isobel. ON THE LIPS.

Not knowing quite what she was doing, Elsie stood up and followed her friend down the length of the ballroom, finally meeting her by where Lord Hepworth and Lady Rosamund were sitting.

"Elsie!" Isobel grinned. "Are you having a good time?"

"Not as good a time as you are, from the looks of things," Elsie replied tartly, flicking her eyes toward the door.

"Hm? Oh, you mean with Mr Carson?" she asked. "That was mistletoe, actually. Sybil had some hung in all the doorways on the first floor."

"Oh," Elsie nodded, the wind having quite effectively dropped out of her sails.

"So if you were looking for a time and place, I think you know where to find it." Isobel winked. "He seems to be having a hard time leaving service for a night." She nodded over to where Charles was standing at attention against the wall.

There was suddenly a tussle under the mistletoe; Anna, who'd just been leaving apparently, had been caught in the doorway by Thomas, the leech, who was now attempting to claim his kiss. Elsie, Charles and Isobel all turned and quickened their pace to intercept him before he did anymore than grope her waist, but it was too late; Thomas put his foot in it.

"Come on now Anna, with your husband gone and all, got to have someone to fulfill the husbandly duties." He'd been taking advantage of the champagne and probably thought he was teasing, but Anna looked positively mortified. Thankfully no one else had attempted to enter or exit the room yet, so those farther into the ballroom didn't notice the scuffle. They did notice, however, Thomas letting out a mighty groan and hitting the polished floor with a 'thud'.

Mr Bates stood in the doorway, sans walking stick, rubbing the fist he'd just hit Thomas with.

"John," Anna sighed in relief, hugging him fiercely. Bates wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"I missed you," he whispered into her hair, holding her hand when she pulled away.

"Bates, my dear man!" Lord Grantham called across the room, stepping over the form of Thomas to reach the valet. "I've been waiting for ages, thought you were going to miss everything. Good to see you, old chap."

"And you, Milord," Bates replied. "I'm not sure what your Mr Murray did, I didn't ask any questions, but it worked; seems he and the coroner found some medical evidence to exonerate me."

"I'm immensely glad to hear it." Lord Grantham shook the man's hand. "As, I imagine, is Mrs Bates."

Anna was positively glowing by this point, and replied, "I am, your Lordship; thank you for everything you've done."

"Think nothing of it; a good man is hard to find," Robert said, with a glance at Thomas, who'd collected himself enough to stand and make his way downstairs, presumably to ice his jaw.

As Isobel, Robert and Mr and Mrs Bates moved farther into the ballroom, Charles turned to Elsie. "A happy ending."

"Finally," she nodded. "Heaven knows they've waited long enough for it."

He grunted in agreement, turning to her with a little gleam in his eye. "If I'm not mistaken, Mrs Hughes, Thomas managed to lure you under the mistletoe."

"Indeed he did, although I doubt that was his intention" she laughed.

"Well, all the better for me then." Charles snuck one arm around her waist, but Elsie shook her head emphatically.

"For goodness sake, Charles, not here! Remember what I said about explaining in the morning!"

"Have you been imbibing? Because I certainly haven't."

"No, of course not. But you know how I feel about atmospheres, even positive ones." Elsie jumped as Mrs Patmore, who was far more tipsy than Thomas had been, positively screamed over the Viennese waltz playing.

"For heaven's sake, Carson, just kiss the woman! We all bloody well know anyway."

Elsie felt a blush creeping its way up her chest, and was keenly missing her high-necked work dress, which would have covered the physical evidence of her embarrassment.

Charles looked down at her and raised his eyebrows, looking very pleased once again, and lowered his lips to hers. And then the fireworks exploded behind her eyes.

In her youth, Elsie was embarrassed to admit that she had been kissed. Repeatedly. Joe Burns was the most serious of a small group of suitors she'd entertained when she was young and foolish. But that had just been to pass the time—this was so much more.

Once Charles had pulled back, he took her hand and led her out of the room, not really aware he was being watched by their employers.

"Oh," Lady Cora sighed happily.

"I had no idea." Robert said in an awed voice. "We always joked that they kept the house together like an old married couple, but I never thought…"

"It's alright Robert," Cora comforted him, looping her arm through his and stepping close. "I don't think there was anything to see until now. But the Christmas spirit brings out the ability to love in all of us, I think."

"Oh yes?" Robert asked, clearly a little amused by his wife's sentimentality.

"Yes." She nodded resolutely. "And on that vein, you, my dear, may claim me for the one-step."

0oOo0

Hours later, when the guests had all departed, Lady Mary sidled up to Anna.

"I don't think we'll need you tonight, Anna. Edith and I are capable of getting ourselves ready for bed for one night."

Anna looked over her shoulder to where her husband was talking to Mr Branson and Lord Grantham. "Are you certain, M'lady? It's no trouble…"

"Don't be ridiculous," Mary smiled. "It's been eight months. Go and be with your husband. A certain room in the East wing will be unoccupied tonight, should you wish to take advantage." Before Anna could reply, Mary sauntered away casually, earning s pleased smile from Matthew and, to Anna's surprise, Lady Edith.

Mr Branson and Lady Sybil elected to join the servants for a nightcap around the table downstairs, and led the party into the servants' hall with Mrs Patmore in tow, singing a rowdy rendition of 'Danny Boy'.

_Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling_

_From glen to glen, and down the mountain side_

_The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying_

_'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide._

_But come ye back when summer's in the meadow_

_Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow_

_'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow_

_Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so._

Anna and Mr Bates had slipped off somewhere between the ballroom and the downstairs dining room, but no one bothered to say anything. After one glass of brandy, Elsie looked at Charles and raised a brow almost imperceptibly. He nodded and excused himself, stating he was going to retire to his pantry. About ten minutes later, Elsie joined him.

"I'm sorry, I had to get away from Beryl—she's rather clingy when she's inebriated." She flashed him an amused glance. "Well, Mr Carson, Anna and Mr Bates are reunited and are nowhere in sight, Lady Sybil—excuse me—Mrs Branson and our former chauffer are happily married, and Lord and Lady Grantham seem closer once again. Everyone seems to have gotten their happy ending."

"Everyone except us," Carson nodded, looking at her as she settled next to him on the settee.

"Indeed."

"And you're wondering what I'm going to do about that." He surmised.

"Indeed I am," She smiled.

He leaned over and kissed her again, and the pair fell back against the sofa cushions. When the need for air became paramount, they broke apart, Charles gathering Elsie in his arms.

"I wonder how Lord and Lady Grantham would feel about their butler and housekeeper having the same surname." Carson whispered against her cheek, his grip tightening on Elsie when he felt her smile.

**Happy Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Yule and whatever else you celebrate this time of year! I also wish you a Happy New Year, in case I don't publish before then!**


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